


Following, Leads

by Krystalicekitsu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Sensory Deprivation, Temperature Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-01
Updated: 2011-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-24 14:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krystalicekitsu/pseuds/Krystalicekitsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam enjoys when Gabriel plays, even if the experience is always full of surprises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Following, Leads

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ihasstopwatch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihasstopwatch/gifts).



> for [](http://ihasstopwatch.livejournal.com/profile)[**ihasstopwatch**](http://ihasstopwatch.livejournal.com/)'s [Five Acts](http://toestastegood.livejournal.com/583836.html) @ [HERE](http://ihasstopwatch.livejournal.com/190209.html). Acts used were #s 2, 5 and a hint of 4. [α](http://ihasstopwatch.livejournal.com/190209.html?thread=383489%20-%20t383489)

The sharp gasp gets cut off in his throat under an even sharper whine as pleasure and _feeling_ skitter across his senses. He has no idea what's coming next, no clue just which of the varied tools his creative lover is going to employ with the blindfold and the darkness of the room cutting away his senses.

As an angel, Gabriel doesn't have to breathe and Sam wouldn't have been able to use that sound to locate him anyway, because the angel's muffled his hearing. Sam has no idea what's going on in Gabriel's Playroom and Gabriel likes it that way. He feels the rough, dry sensation dragging over his stomach once again before cool, smooth and dry drags over his nipples. Thrashing his head and jerking off the bed does nothing to stop or encourage the sensations and Sam fights not to reach out and grab, take, explore.

When the shot of hot spikes harshly just under his collarbone he yelps and can suddenly hear Gabriel's voice in his ear, in his mind, reassuring him, "Ssssh, Sam." And he calms as the sharp heat quickly fades to warm pleasure, even as another and another drop of hot fire drips down his chest in a line, contrasted by the cool slick sliding back up and a sudden burst of electric zinging across his neck and shoulders.

One, two, three strokes and it feels like eating sour candies might feel if someone told a witch that wind and liquid and a live wire could be contained in the same space, in the same shape, the same form. The buzz of a low current of electricity dances along his skin in a sweep of gentle strokes and touches, prickling his skin, raising goose bumps.

He groans out again, only aware of the vibrations as the rumble through his chest, not the sound. But it doesn't matter because there's cool liquid gliding under his jaw and down his neck, curling around his throat and pooling in the hollow at the base.

"Two more hours," is whispered in his ear, and Sam clenches his hands in the rough fabric of his jeans. He loves it when Gabriel gets creative, but he sort of wishes his attention span was shorter.

Oh, well, he supposes. At least he'll sleep well tonight.


End file.
